Great Britain -- History, Naval -- 19th century -- Fiction; Napoleonic Wars, 1800-1815 -- Fiction
We were soon alongside, and found that there was not a soul on board of
the vessel; what had become of the crew, whether they had been murdered,
or not, it was impossible to say, but there were a few drops of blood on
the deck.
The vessel was an American, bound to one of the islands, with shingle
and fir planks; not only was her hold full, but the fir planks were
piled up on each side of the deck, between the masts, to the height of
five or six feet. The pirate had, apparently, been taking some of the
planks on board for her own use.
We dropped the boat astern, let draw the foresheet, and made sail after
the frigate, which was now more than a mile from us, and leaving us very
fast.
The schooner was so over-loaded that she sailed very badly, and before
the evening closed in, we could just perceive the top-gallant sails of
the Calliope above the horizon: but this we thought little of, as we
knew that as soon as she had captured the pirate she would run back
again, and take us out.
There were some hams and other articles on board, for the pirates had
not taken everything, although the lockers had been all broken open, and
the articles were strewed about in every direction in the cabin and on
the deck.
Just before dark, we took the bearings of the frigate, and stood the
same course as she was doing, and then we sat down to a plentiful meal
to which we did justice. I then divided the boat's crew into watches,
went down into the cabin, and threw myself on the standing bed-place, of
which there was but one, with all my clothes on; the men who had not the
watch went down, and turned in in the cuddy forward, where the seamen
usually sleep.
It was not till past midnight that I could obtain any sleep; the heat
was excessive, and I was teased by the cockroaches, which appeared to
swarm in the cabin to an incredible degree, and were constantly running
over my face and body. I little thought then why they swarmed. I
recollect that I dreamt of murder, and tossing men overboard; and then
of the vessel being on fire and after that, I felt very cool and
comfortable, and I dreamed no more; I thought that I heard a voice
calling my name: it appeared that I did hear it in my sleep, but I slept
on.
At last I turned round, and felt a splashing as of water, and some water
coming into my mouth: I awoke. All was dark and quiet; I put my hand
out, and I put it into the water--where was I--was I overboard? I
jumped up in my fright; I found that was still on the standing
bed-place, but the water was above the mattress.
I immediately comprehended that the vessel was sinking, and I called
out, but there was no reply.
I turned out of the bed-place, and found myself up to my neck in water,
with my feet on the cabin-deck. Half swimming, and half floundering, I
gained the ladder, and went up the hatchway.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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